Monday's Child
by Rabble Rouser
Summary: Lieutenant Janice Rand contemplates family. Set a year before ST:TMP.


Story Notes:

Disclaimer: (c) 2007 Rabble Rouser/Harmony_bites. All rights reserved. This work may not be archived, reproduced, or distributed in any format without prior written permission from the author. This is an amateur nonprofit work, and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by Paramount or any other lawful holder.

Over on ASCEM back around 2000 we were challenged to write a story to welcome Pamela's child into the world. Jat-Sapphire wrote a light-hearted piece featuring Rand and for the second time, that touched off a Rand story of my own. This piece owes a bit of a debt to Jat's "Day Care Room" and I'm grateful to her for allowing its use as a dream in the back of Janice's mind and for her quick beta.

Congratulations, Pam, on your "Monday Child!" (although as it turns out little Nikita was born on Tuesday and is therefore full of grace.)

Written as _**Rabble Rouser**_.

* * *

Janice Rand held her breath as she held tiny Demora Sulu in her arms. She stared in fascination as the newborn yawned, looking like a little bird begging for food. Once babies had all looked alike to her, but now she was able to pick out the woman Demora would someday become from studying those delicate features.

She would, Janice thought, make a beautiful woman. She felt that she had never quite had this kind of beauty. Janice believed her chin was too short and her nose a tad too long. She had not been born so "fair of face," and her hunger for that kind of approval had made her put too much energy, when she was younger, into "acting beautiful." She hoped that Demora would have a more graceful passage into a confident adulthood than she had.

Chapel put a hand on her shoulder. "C'mon, kid—share the wealth. I want some time myself." Janice smiled and put Demora into Chris' capable hands. A glow lit Chris' features as Demora slid into her arms. Janice was struck all over again how good a mother Chris would make, if only she could move on. She had taken Spock's retreat into Gol all the more personally because it had nothing to do with her. It underlined again, as if there was any need for it, how little Chris counted in Spock's life.

Not that anyone seemed to have counted. Chris admitted that McCoy had told her Spock had left without a word to either him or the Captain. Janice had thought that there had been a closeness, an easiness between Chris and McCoy, that could have developed into something more. But then, neither would settle for being second choice.

Frank was that to her—but she could hope he didn't know it. Actually in a sense he was third, but at least she had the good sense not to ruin her friendship with Sulu by becoming his lover. She had studiously ignored every signal until Sulu had backed away without a hint of hurt. Six months later Sulu was married.

Jim Kirk had gotten married practically as soon as the _Enterprise_ docked. Janice had gone to the wedding with Nyota and Chris, acted too perkily cheerful to fool either of them, and then tried unsuccessfully to get drunk. She had seen Lori's possessive hand on Kirk's arm and smiled more brightly as the knife twisted. She knew Lori and Kirk had barely dated.

Janice thought savagely that they could be married thirty years and would never share the connection Jim Kirk had with anyone who had ever served under him. Janice had that, at least—even if nothing more. She felt no satisfaction as she saw Kirk grow more tautly miserable and withdrawn every time she had seen him since. They would greet each other and she could read the plea in his eyes for her to say nothing as he saw in hers that he could never fool her. A groundhog like Lori could never understand what bound the _Enterprise_ people to each other—or understand that grounding someone like Kirk would slowly hollow him out.

Five years away from the _Enterprise_, and it still defined family for her. She had never broken the thread of friendship between her and Chris and Nyota, and as soon as the mission ended two years ago, they had reentered each other's lives as if the bond had deepened naturally with daily contact over the years. It seemed as if no other ties—her time since in Officer's Candidate School—her posting to another ship, had ever touched her.

But then she knew that that her time on the _Enterprise_ would never leave her. She had been afraid when she entered officer's training that she would always be marked as a "mustang," someone who had risen from the ranks and not quite the equal of an academy graduate. But Chris had been right—instead, everywhere she went, it was the same. "You know, Janice served on the _Enterprise_—with Captain Kirk." To her amazement, that intimidated the hell out of everybody—and gave her an edge to regain her equilibrium before anyone noticed how unsure she was.

Now, it seemed, the three of them would be serving together again. She and Chris and Nyota had all received orders assigning them to the Enterprise once the ship's refitting was complete. Strictly speaking, her slot as transporter chief was not an officer's posting, but she had been on the engineering track with a specialty in transporter science, and she had grabbed at the chance to return "home." How could it ever be the same, though, without him in the center seat?

But then, what was the same? Jim Kirk married without Spock or McCoy at his side at the wedding, Sulu a husband and father, Chris a doctor and about to step into McCoy's old shoes...and she? It seemed everyone around her was getting married and having children as if, if they didn't hurry now, the supply of perfect spouses and children would run out. Now it would be her turn.

Frank had asked her last weekend to marry him and she had said yes without hesitation. She loved Frank in her own way, although not with the hopeless intensity with which she loved Jim Kirk, and with the knowledge that Frank loved her so much more than she could ever love him back. And that felt good. It felt good to be loved more than she loved. Frank wanted children right away, and she told him she'd think about it. The idea gave her nightmares—literally. Last night she had dreamed she was trapped in some alternate universe day care center taking care of the old Enterprise crew transformed into toddlers. She particularly remembered a two-year old Jimmy Kirk who refused to be taken care of or kept safe or held onto for long. But then, when had Jim Kirk ever let himself be taken care of?

Frank would allow it, she knew. And that felt good too—knowing that someone would let her love him, let her claim ownership, and lavish care. He even insisted that having a family would not interfere with her posting to the _Enterprise_. She could tell he lied. She knew that Frank hoped a child would bind her to him the way her time on the _Enterprise_ bound her. She knew it irked him that she would drop everything if someone who once served on that ship needed her. No, she guessed that Frank knew he didn't come first.

In some ways she felt a deeper bond with Chekov, who had been posted on the _Enterprise_ after she left, and who she had not met until after the five-year mission ended. She had noticed Frank watching the two of them trading stories about serving with Kirk and being able to complete each other's sentences as if they had been raised together. She saw Frank frown when she doubled up howling as Chekov told the story about the tribbles. Janice wiped away tears of laughter and shot Frank an apologetic look. She winced as she saw him turn away, obviously feeling excluded.

Frank must think that a child would be the way to tie her down firmly. She looked at Demora over Chris' shoulder and thought how unfair it was to impose such baggage on someone so helpless. Is it ever fair? When is any parent worthy of the burden of shaping a human life? She knew suddenly that she would tell Frank yes—and that it would be the cruelest and most selfish act of her life.

Because nothing could stop her from reaching out again to the stars. She was already feeling the sense of restlessness she always felt when she was grounded. Uhura was probably right when she said people like them were better off without families—at least from the point of view of the families. You don't ground an eagle—even when there are eaglets in the nest.

**The End.**


End file.
